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A review by inkyinsanity
Every Last Word by Tamara Ireland Stone
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
I had a really fun time reading the first half/three-quarters of Every Last Word.
The writing was compelling, the characters enjoyable, and the romance adorable. I'd describe the plot as Brenna Yovanoff's Paper Valentine meets Clueless. One member of a group of mean girls wants to change herself but is too afraid of her friends' reactions, but something gives her a chance to find her own interests and make new, nicer friends. Plus, she has OCD!
I seem to love that mean girl trope, and I definitely enjoyed reading about the teenage girl drama. (Much more preferable than living through it, or having to supervise it!)
Unfortunately, Sam's big reveal, which the book's summary calls, "...a new reason to question her sanity and all she holds dear,“ fell into the cliche that so many stories about mental health or chronic illness seem to fall into. If you regularly read or look for disability representation, you're probably familiar with the type: instead of being a story where a girl with OCD tries to break away from her toxic friend group, it became a story where a girl with toxic friends struggles with OCD. Except it isn't even a symptom of OCD that she turns out to be experiencing.
Sam hallucinated her new best friend, the one who encouraged her to make new friends, break away from the Crazy Eights (the mean girls, and really, what an interesting name to appear in a book about mental illness), and stop hiding her OCD from her friends.
I saw the twist coming, and kudos to the author for foreshadowing it well. I just hate it.
If the big, climactic disaster had to be about Sam's mental health instead of her friends, which was certainly a strong enough plotline to stand on its own, I had imagined it would have to do with her current treatment regime no longer working, or someone finding out about her OCD/therapy and spilling the beans before Sam was ready, causing social issues at school and increasing her stress, perhaps leading to unsafe behavior on her part in an effort to be "normal.“ etc.
To add to things, after the big twist, the ending is wrapped up in a neat little bow where Sam suddenly has a near-perfect grip on her OCD. Another trope that people seem to love in stories, but that's rarely how it works in real life.
Taking the Hollywood-drama-trope copouts weakened the ending and moved the focus away from where I felt it was supposed to be: Sam's relationships with the people around her.
The real people, that is.
I really wanted to like this book all the way to the end. But while I can't speak for the OCD portrayal, I do not recommend this book to anyone looking for genuine, cathartic representation.
I know how I feel when I encounter this same trope in stories that do portray one of the illnesses I have, and it's not a good feeling.
The writing was compelling, the characters enjoyable, and the romance adorable. I'd describe the plot as Brenna Yovanoff's Paper Valentine meets Clueless. One member of a group of mean girls wants to change herself but is too afraid of her friends' reactions, but something gives her a chance to find her own interests and make new, nicer friends. Plus, she has OCD!
I seem to love that mean girl trope, and I definitely enjoyed reading about the teenage girl drama. (Much more preferable than living through it, or having to supervise it!)
Unfortunately, Sam's big reveal, which the book's summary calls, "...a new reason to question her sanity and all she holds dear,“ fell into the cliche that so many stories about mental health or chronic illness seem to fall into. If you regularly read or look for disability representation, you're probably familiar with the type: instead of being a story where a girl with OCD tries to break away from her toxic friend group, it became a story where a girl with toxic friends struggles with OCD. Except it isn't even a symptom of OCD that she turns out to be experiencing.
I saw the twist coming, and kudos to the author for foreshadowing it well. I just hate it.
If the big, climactic disaster had to be about Sam's mental health instead of her friends, which was certainly a strong enough plotline to stand on its own, I had imagined it would have to do with her current treatment regime no longer working, or someone finding out about her OCD/therapy and spilling the beans before Sam was ready, causing social issues at school and increasing her stress, perhaps leading to unsafe behavior on her part in an effort to be "normal.“ etc.
To add to things, after the big twist, the ending is wrapped up in a neat little bow where Sam suddenly has a near-perfect grip on her OCD. Another trope that people seem to love in stories, but that's rarely how it works in real life.
Taking the Hollywood-drama-trope copouts weakened the ending and moved the focus away from where I felt it was supposed to be: Sam's relationships with the people around her.
I really wanted to like this book all the way to the end. But while I can't speak for the OCD portrayal, I do not recommend this book to anyone looking for genuine, cathartic representation.
I know how I feel when I encounter this same trope in stories that do portray one of the illnesses I have, and it's not a good feeling.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Ableism, Toxic friendship, and Panic attacks/disorders
Moderate: Bullying and Stalking
Minor: Suicide, Cancer, and Death of parent
Strong internalized ableism is present throughout the entire book.